


Dressing Room

by Atleastwritingisfun



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Mild Sexual Content, Post good ending, Semi-Public Sex, zen unleashes the beast but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 07:58:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10509603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atleastwritingisfun/pseuds/Atleastwritingisfun
Summary: You couldn't stop yourself from watching Zen's rehearsals, because you missed having him at home, you missed having him in your bed. You decided to take things into your own hands and find him yourself. But he has a couple tricks up his sleeve, because you know that once the beast is awakened, it cannot be controlled.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here's some reader fanfic. I haven't written fanfic in ages. If you have anything you'd like me to write, comment below because this was honestly kinda fun to write for a change. :)

_“And as sure as the sun rises, I will always love you…”_

You sigh, watching Zen practice his lines from the side of the stage. You knew you weren’t exactly supposed to be there, _technically_ you were supposed to see him at 6, after he’d finished. But you’d finished your day earlier than expected, and with nothing left to you, you thought you’d sneak in and spy on Zen’s rehearsals. That, and the stage manager liked you, which made it so much easier to get in without a pass.

You watched your boyfriend take centre stage with his new love interest, letting your eyes linger ever so slightly on him. You loved watching him perform. He always seemed drawn into his character, like he’d morphed and slipped into the skin of a different person. But he looked the same.

You noticed the cascades of silvery hair on his head, the delicate and long eyelashes, that little wrinkle in his nose when he remembered his lines, sharp curves of his face, and most of all how soft and pouty his lips were. You smile to yourself, biting your lip. You honestly felt like you’d won the jackpot.

You tried to adjust yourself in the seat given to you. It was a simple plastic folding chair, the only thing they had on hand for you. It didn’t bother you, you weren’t picky, but you honestly couldn’t move without it letting out the strangest groans and squeaks you’d ever heard. You tried again to move yourself, only to have the chair groan during a silent scene. All eyes turned to you. Including Zen’s.

“Take a break, everyone. You’ve got 20 minutes before the next scene.” The stage manager shouted, the scene before melting away. Zen stood on stage, giving you an amused laugh that tickled your face pink. He strode over, his shoes tapping the floor. He walked slowly, then briskly, then practically ran at you, before picking you up off the chair.

“Now what are you doing here, _princess?_ ” He said warmly into your ear, giving it a nibble. “I thought you had errands to run after work.”

“I finished early. I’m efficient.” You laughed breathlessly, cupping his face in your hands, sliding a thumb over his cheek. “And I wanted to indulge myself with a little Zenny time.”

He smiled, his cheeks turning an odd shade of pink on his pale skin. “You always know the best things to say to me when I’m feeling tired.” He muttered, leaning into your touch.

“I miss having you in the apartment, Zen.” You wistfully sigh, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “It feels so empty without you.” You paused, before giving a sly grin. “Especially our bed.”

And then you saw it. That glint in his red eyes, that unmistakable twinkle he had when he got excited about… _that._ He smiled, untangling himself, and taking your hand. “Stage manager said 20 minutes. We’ve got time. Let me show you my dressing room.”

“Wait- here?” You whispered, worried people could hear you. “You cannot be _serious._ ”

“I am, now come on.” He chuckled, gripping your hand tighter. You knew this was wrong, you knew you could get caught, but part of you couldn’t help but feel so deeply _aroused_ by the idea of it.

The dressing room couldn’t have been any smaller. You knew Zen was still making his way slowly in his career, but you couldn’t help but feel this room wasn’t fit for a broom store cupboard. As soon as he closed the door, his lips immediately found yours.

He pressed his mouth to yours feverishly, giving your lip a bite, before slipping his hot, moist tongue into yours, his hand pressed up against the crook of your neck. He guided you slowly to his dressing room table, before breaking the kiss.

“I’ve missed having you all to myself.” He smirked, slipping a hand under your blouse. “And I just cannot bare to see you so unhappy without me.” With one swift pull of his hands, your blouse buttons were undone, or rather, removed entirely from the fabric. You felt the cold rush of air hit your chest, and involuntarily shivered.

“Cold, my princess? I know just the thing to warm you up.” He leaned down, his thighs pinning you to the table, before pressing a hot mouth to your collarbone. He peppered it with wet, sloppy kisses, before dragging his lips across your neck, sucking the skin softly, and leaving a blotchy red mark. His hands held the nape of your back, the other working over your thigh. You thanked every star that you’d worn shorts today.

He brought his lips back up to yours, letting them linger, before pulling you closer to him. “You’ve unleashed the beast, my princess.” He growled, a small, but heavy chuckle rumble in his chest. He guided your hands to his shirt, letting you undress him. You gently undid each button, feeling like a child opening a gift on Christmas morning. You let your fingers slip ever so slightly onto his skin, which felt warm to the touch, as you slipped the shirt gently off him.

“Cannot have your stage manager blaming me for a ruined costume.” You smiled, before wrapping your legs around his waist. He felt sturdy against you. You felt safe and secure as he slid his hands around your hips, anchoring you to the top of the dresser. With a slow rub, he brought his palms slowly along your back, enjoying the sensation of your skin against his. You purred gently, putting your own hands lazily draped over his shoulders.

He finally made his way to the buttons of your shorts, giving them a slight twist to the button before you felt them being pulled off. Zen’s hands worked quickly, leaving you in just your underwear, and him in just his trousers.

You fumbled to remove your bra, thankfully, Zen took your hand in his, and snapped it off quickly.

“How’d you get so good at that?” You watched as the bra went falling onto the floor.

“Practice.” He winked, before pecking your lips. He knelt in front of you, bringing your knees together, lovingly stroking across your leg. He slowly moved your knees apart, exposing your underwear more and what lay beneath the fabric.

“What would someone think if they saw us like this?” You muttered breathlessly as he pressed a cheek against your inner thigh, gliding his fingers across their soft skin.

“Lucky Zen, I guess.” He breathed, the hot breath against your skin making you shiver as he begun kissing along your leg. He brought his mouth closer and closer to your underwear, now feeling uncomfortably warm. He smirked up at you, causing you to whimper as he grasped his teeth on the fabric of the underwear perched on your hip.

His breathing coupled with his soft stroking of your thigh made you gasp as he began pulling the fabric away from you. His teeth made contact with your skin again, the slightly painful sucking feeling making you feel more heated as he continued, knowing there’d be a bruise. As the underwear began to pass your hips, a loud knock came from the door.

“5 minutes! 5 minutes and I want everyone back on set!” Came the voice of Zen’s stage manager. Both of you jumped, making eye contact. You laughed first, and Zen soon after. You picked up his costume, helping him get dressed again. You couldn’t quite concentrate at getting your own clothes back on as Zen groped around your body, peppering you with light kisses.

“Stay, I don’t have to go back on stage.” He muttered.

“If you want this role and this job, you do.” You sighed, snapping your bra back on.

“Didn’t like the role anyway.” He said, before smacking his lips back on yours. You broke the kiss, giving him a playful smack.

“Yes, you do, and besides you owe me a new shirt, how am I supposed to go home without one?” You picked up the remains of your shirt that had been discarded, the buttons hanging by threads.

He moved to a little box by the side of his door, rummaging around it. “I keep a sweater here for when I get cold during rehearsals. Take it.” He tossed it at you, wiping his mouth with his fingers, blowing you a mock kiss.

“Won’t you be cold?” You asked, slipping the newly obtained sweater on yourself. It was much too large for you, hanging on the hips, you rolled up the sleeves. You took a whiff of it. It smelled just like him, slightly musty from his cologne which felt woody and heavy on your nose.

“No, I’ll be fine.” He walked over, giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Besides, I think I’ve warmed up enough already.”


End file.
